I go into panic mode when I see the hole in her leg dripping blood, I run upstairs, grabbing gauze & salve and some bandaging wrap. Ryan and I look at each other as every time I try to wrap it it falls off, exposing the hole again. We know in our hearts this is her last day, we start to think of ways to extend it, make it easy for her, there's nothing but calling the vet to help us solidify a plan. The wrap isn't staying secure, so the only thing I can think to do is give her something she loves, ice cream, on a hot, humid day; July 28th. Even after we get it wrapped around her waist, the damn thing falls off.
The vet says to come in, the boys, through their tears, hug & pet sue for the last time. It's just unbearable to watch their pain. Maxim loves Sue so much, he lays on her like a sofa and will cover her up with blankets to cuddle with her. I load Sue up in my car and we go...though the bandages fall off and the towels I have covering her seat are useless as she hops into my seat, as always. :) Gosh darn Susan. I get to the clinic where we talk about options. 1. Treat the open wound. 2. Cut it off, leaving her with a huge cut to heal and the vet being unsure if she'll get all of the cancerous parts off, or 3. Euthanasia. I said, my husband and I have discussed it and at this point, we are not giving her a healthy life, we're trying to extend the time until her inevitable death, and she's in pain, though she smiles every day and tries to participate in the daily life in our home. The boys have been through so much, and if I take her home again, its just going to make it harder on them. We decide. It isn't over a half hour & sue gives out her last breaths and her heart stops. I bawl loudly and close her eyes, not trying to contain any of my sadness. The technicians tell me I can have as much time as I need to be with her. They tell me now she's not in pain, with huge painful cancer that must hurt her so badly. She's running and playing. It is a nice sentiment. I think of the good in her, of all of her wonderful qualities and how great she was as a companion to my family & I lose it. Grief can turn your cries into such animalistic, guttural sounds. Though we tease & joke that she's always been the ugly duckling, no animal has ever been so loyal, so sweet, just an overall great-natured animal that was just so joyous to be with her family.
We were talking about things to keep in our memories of Sue after I got home. Susan pranced when she went for walks, almost comically. Such a beautiful little walker. She would heal without ever being taught. She would always walk behind or run without pushing or dragging me. Susan never let Booker EVER fetch a stick on his own, and when she'd fight him for it, it was always in the opposite direction of where he was walking or swimming towards. She was very fast in her youth and a tiny, little spitfire. She hated when you touched her paws when she'd "shake," but treats are worth the awkward touch that she'd always back away from. She loved going out back to the creek with the boys & swimming and fetching sticks out there. She never let on that she was physically old, she pushed through, wagging, smiling, walking over chisel-plowed ground to the creek and beaver dam behind our house. She loved when we'd take her hunting pheasant and she was too excited for her own good and would get far ahead often. She'd play with us year round, even following the sleds in the winter time. She loved to swim, but mostly in blow up pools that she could destroy. She never once hurt a chicken, though she liked to pretend she might. She loved my sons, never bit at them or growled and accepted their love, no matter how heavy it was on her body when a 42+ lb maxim laid his entire body on her.
Susan was always happy to be apart of our family, and hasn't really been the same since Booker died because he led the pack. Its tough to lose such a wonderful girl, but I'm thankful to have had her blessing in my life. We'll miss you Sue and you'll forever be in my heart as a loyal, faithful, blessing of a companion.
